


5 Times Peter Saves An Animal and 1 Time He Can't

by hopeless_hope



Series: Avengers Tower (Zoo) [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Animal Death, Animals, But just a tiny bit, Cute, Dad!Tony, Dogs, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Irondad, Ned Leeds is a Good Bro, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony is a stressed dad, leave him alone he's trying his Best, so much cuteness honestly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-09-22 02:36:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17051453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeless_hope/pseuds/hopeless_hope
Summary: “Peter,” he drawls slowly. “What’s in your pocket?”“Nothing!” Peter says defensively.Tony just shakes his head. “FRIDAY, what’s in his pocket?”Peter hangs his head, realizing he’s been defeated as the AI speaks. “Mr. Parker appears to have what is a baby feline on his person. The breed, to be specific, is a Bombay cat,” the AI informs them.orTony's penthouse turns into an actual zoo and it's all Peter's fault.





	1. the kitten

“Are you ready for the test over chapters eight and nine?” Ned asks Peter as they approach the school. They’re both holding study guides, scanning over the papers for some last-minute studying.

Peter shrugs. “I think I’ll be fine. I have all the formulas memorized, so as long as I know when to use them and don’t make dumb mistakes like last time, I should do well.”

Ned rolls his eyes at him. “Peter, you made a ninety-six on the last test. What do you mean ‘dumb mistakes’?”

“I forgot to make the exponent negative!” he says defensively. “That’s pretty stupid.”

Ned shakes his head. “Whatever you say, man. I hate calculus. Programming is where it’s at.”

There’s just about to walk into the building, when a high-pitched sound catches Peter’s attention. He jerks to a stop and Ned nearly runs into him.

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Ned asks as Peter perks up, head tilted to the side as he strains to listen. He looks over towards the neatly trimmed bushes that stand on either side of the steps leading into the school, and he quickly goes over to them, trying to pinpoint the source of the sound.

As Peter gets closer, he hears it again, but now the sound is clear: it’s the sound of helpless meowing. He doesn’t even hesitate before getting on his hands and knees and moving the branches aside, Ned looking baffled behind him.

Peter’s heart immediately melts at the little ball of fur resting on the ground. A little black kitten, looking helpless and afraid, has its head resting weakly on the ground as it tries to screech for help.

Peter spares a quick look around for the mother and the rest of the litter but doesn’t see any sign of them.

The poor little guy is all alone, dying in the cold.

“Oh my god,” Peter exclaims softly. He gently reaches out picks up the baby, shushing it gently when it starts to whimper in fright.

“It’s okay, sweetie, you’re safe now. I’ve got you,” he tells it soothingly as he backs out of the bushes and stands to face a curious Ned.

Ned’s eyes widen in surprise when Peter reveals the tiny bundle in his palm.

“Oh, poor baby!” Ned coos, immediately stroking its head with a single finger. Its eyes close contentedly. “Where is your family?”

Peter shakes his head, looking upset. “I think he got left behind. The mom and all the other kittens are gone.”

Ned frowns and gives the kitten a sympathetic pat. “So what are we gonna do with him? We can’t just leave him. He’ll freeze to death. Or starve.”

Peter smiles as the kitten curls into his hand, seeking warmth in the frigid winter air. “I don’t know… May’s at work, and I don’t have time to bring him back to the apartment. Plus, we have a calculus test in like – shit – fifteen minutes.”

Ned purses his lips for a second and thinks, before looking at Peter with a thoughtful expression. “Completely hypothetically, how hard do you suppose it would be to keep him with us all day without getting caught?”

Peter huffs out a laugh. “Ned, you can’t say it’s hypothetical when there is a literal kitten laying in the palm of my hand.”

“Oh hush,” Ned pouts. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Peter shrugs helplessly. “I guess the worst that could happen is that we get caught and they call May? I don’t entirely care, I just don’t want anything bad to happen to him out here.”

“That’s fair,” Ned nods. “Maybe since he’s warm, he won’t be loud? We can try to cover up any noise he makes as best as we can.”

“That should work,” Peter agrees. “Besides, if I can keep Spider-Man a secret, this’ll be a piece of cake.”

(It is not, in fact, a piece of cake.)

Peter’s not exactly sure how they manage to make it through the day all the way to lunch, but somehow, they do. Not by any small feat, either. Every time it let out a cry, Peter would try to cover the sound with a yawn or a loud coughing fit.

Otherwise, they seemed to have found the tamest little cat. For the most part, it seems content to curl up inside the warmth of Peter’s giant hoodie pocket, and whenever he starts to feel the creature wriggle around, he makes a point to escape to the bathroom to let it stretch its legs a little.

When he meets up with Ned and MJ at their usual table, he remembers that he needs to actually try to feed the poor creature. Ned immediately rushes to his side as they get in line for food.

Today’s menu includes sloppy joe, fries, and broccoli. With a choice of peanut butter and jelly sandwich as a backup option. Peter’s not even sure what an adult cat can eat when it comes to human food, much less a kitten.

Ned nudges him. “What are we going to feed him?” he mutters, conscious of MJ being right behind them.

“Ask Google,” Peter hisses. “How am I supposed to know?”

Ned obediently takes out his phone, and Peter jerks when he feels the kitten start to wriggle uncomfortable in his pocket. Before he can stop it, the little ball of fur peeks its head out, and Peter gently but hastily tucks it back in, hoping no one saw.

He gets no such luck. MJ is staring at his pocket with an incredulous look on her face.

“Peter, what the fuck? Is that a _kitten_?”

Peter gives her a panicked look before turning to Ned for help. His best friend merely shrugs in a _what did you expect?_ gesture.

“No! Of course not,” he says defensively, even as he reaches for a carton of milk, because cats totally drink milk, right? “Also, on a totally unrelated note, is anything they’re serving today edible for kittens?”

MJ gives him a look of pure disbelief, raising her eyebrow as the mass in his pocket continues to shift around restlessly.

“Oh my god,” she whispers. “You brought a kitten to school.”

“Shhh!” Peter hushes her dramatically as they make their way back to the far corner of the cafeteria. Peter inwardly thanks God that they usually sit away from the majority of the students. “In my defense, he was stuck alone in the freezing cold bushes outside the school this morning. What was I supposed to do?”

MJ scoffs. “Of course you’d assume it’s a male.”

“I am genuinely feeling so attacked right now,” Ned cuts in as they sit, with Peter taking the seat that faces the wall.

MJ just rolls her eyes, not looking the least bit sorry. “Pass her over to me,” she demands, giving Peter a stern look, and Peter doesn’t even consider disobeying. He looks around the room to make sure no one’s paying attention before gently taking the tiny creature out of his pocket and passing it to MJ.

Peter can’t help but marvel at the way the normally apathetic-seeming girl’s face immediately softens as she cradles the little bundle.

“Hey, there, sweetie. Don’t worry, I’m here to make sure these hooligans don’t kill you,” she coos, tossing Ned and Peter dirty looks. They’re only a little offended.

“I feel like we’re doing okay,” Peter says defensively. She just raises an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, really? You were going to feed her that milk, right?” she asks, nodding pointedly at the carton Peter had grabbed.

Ned starts to nod, but Peter wants to groan, knowing the question is a trap. Without waiting for them to answer, MJ just nods to herself. “She can’t have cow’s milk. It’ll make her have diarrhea, which is dangerous for kittens. She needs actual formula to replace her mother’s milk.”

Peter frowns, suddenly glad he’s got MJ there to make sure he really doesn’t fuck this up. “Oh.”

“After six hours, kittens run the risk of developing hypoglycemia,” MJ continues. “It’s already been four hours, and there’s no telling how long she was without food before then.”

Ned peers at the ball of fur with concern. “Oh, god, what do we do?”

“Luckily for you two losers, I have a free period in an hour, so I can run and get some formula and a bottle from the pet store. I promised I’d help Dad with building another bookshelf after school, so I can’t do any more than that.”

Peter nods, feeling relieved. “You’re a godsend, MJ.”

She smiles, gently stroking the kittens head. “I know. Also, the kitten’s name is now Bagheera. Hera, for short. She’s named after a blank panther and the goddess of women. That’s, like, doubly powerful.”

“Wait, why is it suddenly a girl?” Ned protests. MJ gives him a scathing look.

“Because I said so,” she states simply, and neither of them are brave enough to argue.

They quietly pass the kitten to each other throughout the rest of the lunch period, fawning over the black mass of fur.

When the bell rings, Peter gently slides her back into his pocket, making sure the sides are open, so she can breathe okay. He can barely concentrate for the rest of the day, worried that she’s gone too long without food.

Every time he checks up on her, he gently holds a finger in front of her nose to feel the little puffs of air that remind him that she’s still breathing. Peter wonders how in the hell he hasn’t been caught yet, with Ned constantly texting him when they’re in separate classes.

Peter can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief when MJ meets up with them in their last class of the day, Study Skills, which is the dumbest class ever and essentially just another free period for them to talk and catch up on assignments.

She hands Peter the formula, and he reads the instructions. Water, he thinks, is definitely doable. And Dr. Cato lets them use the microwave he keeps in the big closet whenever they want, so it should be easy enough.

Peter excuses himself to the bathroom and fills up the bottle with water, mentally measuring it out before hastily making his way back to class. He casually walks into the closet, already knowing that Dr. Cato won’t notice or care, and heats up the bottle of water until it’s warm.

When he comes back out, Ned already has the formula measured out. As MJ shakes the bottle to mix the powder in, Peter can’t help but be so thankful that everyone talks and is allowed to do their own thing. Otherwise, he’d be so screwed.

He carefully takes Bagheera out and sits her on his lap, Ned and MJ blocking everyone else’s view as he gently tips the bottle into her tiny mouth. He whispers gently to her when she doesn’t take it at first, but after a few tries, she hesitantly nibbles on the rubber, a few drops of milk falling into her mouth.

Peter sighs in relief and smiles gratefully at MJ, making a mental note to pay her back for the formula later.

When the bell rings for the end of the way, Peter lets out a breath and considers it a genuine miracle that they haven’t been caught. He’s not actually sure how they managed to do it, but his throat is nearly raw from loudly fake-coughing to cover up the soft little mewls coming from his pocket.

He carefully slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks out of the school with Ned, taking Bagheera out of his pocket and letting her enjoy the fresh air.

“So what are you going to do with her?” Ned asks curiously.

“I don’t know. We’re not technically allowed to have her in the apartment, so May’s gonna take a lot of convincing,” Peter says. “Otherwise, I guess she’ll have to go to a shelter. But also, she’s my child now.”

Ned laughs. “I would take her, but we already have two cats and my mom would never let us get a third.”

“Nah, it’s fine. We’ll figure something out, won’t we, Hera?” Peter coos to the kitten. He looks up when Ned nudges him.

“Yo, Peter. Isn’t that Happy?” he asks, pointing to the Audi parked near them. Peter swears, suddenly remembering that Tony wanted him to swing by the lab after school for suit repairs.

“Shit,” Peter mutters. “Fuck.”

Ned pats him sympathetically. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. Plus, it’s not like Mr. Stark has ever said you _couldn’t_ bring animals into the Tower.”

“I mean. You’re not necessarily wrong,” Peter agrees, trying to justify it in his mind. He carefully places the kitten back into his pocket. “I know, I’m sorry, babe. But the Tower is nice and warm, I promise.”

Peter quickly says goodbye to Ned, promising to keep his friend updated, and scurries over to Happy’s car.

“Sorry, Happy! I completely forgot Mr. Stark wanted to see me today,” he confesses breathlessly, quickly sliding in. Happy glances at him, eyebrows raised.

“Didn’t know that was possible,” he comments, and Peter immediately decides that he wants the man’s attention off of him. How come the one time Peter _doesn’t_ want the man to acknowledge him, Happy actually does?

“Yeah, well, you know how school is. Or maybe you don’t. You’re kind of old, you know?” Peter says, smirking. “Actually, how old _are_ you? Are you older than Mr. Stark? Would that be weird, having a boss who’s younger than you? Anywho, does that mean – “

Peter smiles victoriously to himself when Happy raises the partition between them, effectively blocking Peter’s voice out. He sighs in relief, glad he doesn’t have to worry about Bagheera making noise.

The ride to the Tower is uneventful, with Bagheera napping in the now-familiar warmth of Peter’s front pocket. When they arrive, he’s quick to hop out, giving Happy a cheerful wave before making a quick escape to the elevator.

“Hello, Mr. Parker,” FRIDAY greets. “You appeared to have acquired a companion. Shall I alert Mr. Stark to the extra company?”

If Peter weren’t so panicked at the notion, he’d laugh at the phrasing. AI’s are weird. “Uh, no – no thanks, FRI. Not necessary. At all.”

She’s silent for moment, and Peter’s almost afraid she’ll insist. But then she says, “Understood. Mr. Stark awaits your presence in the communal kitchen.”

Peter perks up in surprise at that. Usually he goes straight to Tony’s lab, typically grabbing an apple on his way down. At the thought of food, Peter’s stomach grumbles, and he realizes that he hadn’t eaten at lunch, too preoccupied with taking care of Bagheera.

“Sounds good,” Peter says, leaning against the railing as the lift starts to make its ascent. A soft noise sounds from Peter’s pocket and he gently sticks a hand inside and pets the small mass of fur, murmuring comfortingly.

“I know, sweetheart. I bet this is all so scary for you. But hey, I’ll build you the best little shelter and bed after me and Mr. Stark finish with the suit. You’ll be living like the goddess you are,” he promises, feeling his heart melt when the animal nudges her little head into the palm of his hand.

When the elevator comes to a stop, Peter steps out and heads for the kitchen, stopping when he finds Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Wander lounging and watching TV in the spacious living room.

“Hello, Peter,” Steve greets, smiling at him warmly, and Peter inwardly screams. It doesn’t matter how many conversations he has with Steve, he’ll never be able to get over talking to Captain freaking America. “How was school today?”

“Oh, uh – you know. Boring. Uneventful. Sooo uneventful. Because school is boring,” Peter stammers, mentally cringing. Steve gives him a weird look but nods nonetheless.

Peter quickly looks down, face bright red, and makes his way across the room, where the kitchen is. Inside, Tony is leaning against the island, cradling a cup of coffee.

“Hey, kid,” Tony greets. “I was hungry, so I thought we could eat some snacks first.”

Peter nods, making a beeline straight for the fridge and pulling out a tray of cut sandwiches and immediately picking up three.

“Thanks, Mr. Stark!” he exclaims, mouth full. Tony rolls his eyes.

“What have I said about thanking me for food?” he asks, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips.

Peter swallows and grins sheepishly. “That it’s the most stupid apology you’ve ever heard of and not to say sorry for things that don’t warrant it.”

“Bingo,” Tony says, raising the mug to his lips to take another life-saving sip.

Bagheera chooses that moment to let out a loud mewl, and Tony and Peter both freeze, Peter mid-bite.

“Was that a… _meow?_ ” Tony asks incredulously, and Peter laughs nervously.

“Uh, yeah. I just meowed. It’s a, uh, new thing I’m trying out,” Peter stammers, and Tony raises a disbelieving eyebrow. Across from them, someone mutes the TV as the few Avengers turn their attention to the much more interesting conversation going on.

“You meowed,” Tony repeats flatly. Peter just nods, hating his inability to lie. Tony takes a deep breath. “Peter. Look at me,” he commands, waiting for the boy to do so. Peter cautiously lifts his gaze to meet his mentor’s, and he’s relieved to find the man doesn’t look angry. Just curious. “Don’t say anything. Just keep looking right at me.”

It lasts just long enough for it to be awkward. Tony’s brow is still raised, face full of anticipation, and Peter can sense the other Avengers staring at the two of them curiously. No one moves.

Then, he feels Bagheera shift inside his pocket before she lets out a contented little purr, and Peter wants the floor to swallow him whole. Tony’s eyes snap to his front pocket.

“Peter,” he drawls slowly. “What’s in your pocket?”

“Nothing!” Peter says defensively.

Tony just shakes his head. “FRIDAY, what’s in his pocket?”

Peter hangs his head, realizing he’s been defeated as the AI speaks. “Mr. Parker appears to have what is a baby feline on his person. The breed, to be specific, is a Bombay cat,” the AI informs them.

For a moment, no one speaks. Tony slowly closes his eyes and inhales deeply. When he opens them again, he looks up at the ceiling, as if asking for divine intervention.

“Peter. To be clear – you currently have a _kitten_ in your pocket?”

The teen nods miserably, putting his hand into the hoodie to coax the creature out. She lets out a happy sound when the human settles her into the palm of his hand.

Tony looks frozen, brain trying to process what the fuck is going on. The other Avengers, however, don’t seem to have the same problem. They all immediately come over, wanting to look at the black ball of fur.

“Oh, what a precious baby!” Wanda coos excitedly. “What’s its name?”

Peter smiles, pleased at their reactions. “Bagheera! Hera for short.”

“Powerful names for such a small creature,” Nat murmurs, looking fondly at the kitten.

“MJ actually named her,” Peter admits.

“Sounds like a keeper,” Nat comments.

“The kitten or MJ?” Peter asks in confusion.

Nat smirks at him. “Why not both?”

Peter blushes, just about to open his mouth to clarify that he definitely does _not_ have a thing for MJ, when Tony seems to have gotten his voice back.

“Excuse me! Does no one want to know _why_ Peter has a kitten in his pocket?”

“Who cares?” Wanda says delightedly, gently taking the animal into her arms.

Peter just shrugs. “She was crying in the bushes outside the school this morning. She was all alone and there was no sign of her family. And it was freezing. I was afraid she’d die, so I took her in with me.”

Sam pauses from petting the soft fur. “Wait a second. You kept her with you at _school?”_ he asks in shock, and Peter shrugs again.

“What was I supposed to do?” he asks, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he bites out sarcastically. “Call the animal shelter?”

Peter crosses his arms and glares at him. “What, so she can eventually be put down? No one wants to adopt black cats because people are superstitious about them,” he says hotly, and Tony raises his hands.

“Whoa, okay, kid. Touchy subject. I’m just – I’m impressed, actually. That you didn’t get caught during school, I mean.”

“Yeah, well. Ned and MJ helped a lot,” Peter admits, and Tony snorts.

“Oh, well, if Ted was involved, then I’m even _more_ surprised.” Peter rolls his eyes at both the comment and Tony purposely getting Ned’s name wrong. “Anywho, go ahead and say your goodbyes, kid,” Tony adds, pulling out his phone, and Peter panics.

“No!” he nearly yells, webbing Tony’s phone out of his hands before he can think too hard about it. Tony stares at him, stunned.

“Did you just use your webs on me? In my own home?” Tony asks incredulously, and Peter just wants to hit backspace on the whole damn day.

“I, uh, sorry, Mr. Stark,” he says, hastily trying to peel the webbing from the expensive phone. “Just – please don’t send her to a shelter. I’m going to keep her,” he says with determination.

“Peter,” Tony says gently. “I know for a fact that you can’t have cats in your apartment. Plus, you’re at school all day. How will you care for a baby animal? And don’t say you’ll bring her with you to school every day,” Tony adds when Peter opens his mouth to speak. Peter slumps in defeat, looking sadly at the small bundle now nestled in Sam’s hands.

“Why can’t she stay here?” Steve asks mildly, and Tony whips his head around at the question.

“What?” he says sharply, and Steve just shrugs.

“I mean, it wouldn’t be during any harm. One or two of us are always here and once they’re older, cats are super independent. It’d be nice to have around.”

“Yeah, plus, animals are known to be great stress relievers. Which, in our line of work, we can’t get enough of,” Sam adds.

Even Natasha chimes in with, “It couldn’t hurt. Animals are good for teaching kids responsibility.”

“Hey!” Peter says, fully offended, and Natasha simply smirks and ruffles his hair affectionately.

In the end, it’s Peter’s pleading eyes, gaze so full of hope and _please please please_ that Tony wants to vomit. He can’t even be blamed for what he says next.

“Fine!” he huffs, tossing up his hands in exasperation as everyone cheers. “But I’m not taking care of it.”

Tony doesn’t know it now, but this is only the beginning.


	2. the dog

Peter loves most things about being Spider-Man. I mean, yeah, getting punched and kicked and stabbed at isn’t particularly fun, and the emotional trauma that comes from having a building dropped on you _definitely_ isn’t great, but for the most part, Spider-Man is awesome.

Spider-Man has a confidence that Peter Parker never did. He’s snarky and sarcastic in a way that Peter only gets to be around certain people, and he’s athletic and flexible and gets to show it all off, which he could _never_ do as Peter Parker.

But best of all, he gets to really, truly help people.

Peter is swinging through the city, enjoying the thrill of wind whipping at him, when he takes one of his favorite back alley shortcuts.

He nearly swings into a dumpster when he takes in the sight that greets him.

Cowering against the wall, with a chain biting into its neck, is a dog. Peter immediately drops to the ground, heart breaking when the dog whimpers and presses closer to the wall, trying to get away from him.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Peter murmurs softly. “It’s okay, I’m not here to hurt you.”

He takes a few cautious steps closer, but the dog doesn’t growl at him or anything. It just whimpers pathetically, and Peter kind of wants to cry.

“Karen, what’s wrong with him?” he asks worriedly. The AI does a quick scan.

“He appears to have been beaten and left outside. The chain is biting into his neck – it’s cutting into his skin and becoming infected. Because of the abuse, he’s scared of you. He’s a German Shepherd,” Karen informs him.

Peter turns back to the animal. “Oh, babe. I’m sorry. Why don’t we take you away from your evil owners and take care of that neck of yours, yeah?”

The dog just continues to shake as Peter gets closer.

“He’s probably hungry, Peter. Try coaxing him with food,” Karen suggests, and Peter brightens up, hastily grabbing the Slim Jim he always keeps in his suit for fast protein.

Peter quickly unwraps it, smiling when he sees the dog’s ears perk up. Peter holds it out in front of him.

“Hey, buddy. You want something to eat? You’re probably starving, poor baby. You can have this all to yourself! Come on, I know you want it,” Peter croons, slowly inching closer.

The dog cautiously sticks his head out, nose twitching at the yummy smell of food. But when Peter shifts forward a little more, the dog jerks back again, startled.

“It’s okay, I promise! I just want to help you,” Peter insists, waggling the stick of meat a little bit.

The poor thing looks so conflicted, torn between being petrified and being starving. He looks at Peter with desperate eyes, and Peter has to exercise every amount of self-control to not rush forward and give the dog a huge hug.

Finally, it seems to come to a decision, and so fast that Peter almost misses it, the dog darts his head out and snags the snack out of his hand, barely taking time to chew before it’s swallowed down. 

“Good boy!” Peter praises, and the dog comes closer, sniffing curiously for more. “I don’t have any more on me, buddy, I’m sorry. But if you come with me, Mr. Stark has loads of things you can snack on,” he tells the canine, already making the decision of taking him to the Tower. He’d need Tony’s tools to get the chain off anyway.

The dog lowers his head in disappointment, no longer shaking, but still staying a safe distance away. Peter sticks out a cautious hand, allowing the dog to sniff. He waits patiently while the traumatized animal gathers up the courage to do so.

Peter laughs softly when the dog’s snout nudges his hand. “There we go!” Peter says enthusiastically. “See? There’s nothing to worry about.”

The dog seems to realize that, gaining confidence as he presses his face into Peter’s hand more, giving him a tentative lick.

“Oh my god, I love you,” Peter tells him, thinking he might just absolutely die from how pure this sweet animal is. He carefully moves his hand to pet the dog, pouting slightly when he flinches away.

“It’s okay, boy. But you’ve gotta trust me so I can help you!”

After a few more minutes of gentle coaxing, the dog finally lets Peter pet him, even leaning into the tender touch as Peter scratches the underside of his head.

“Oh, yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it? Such a good boy,” Peter murmurs. “Why don’t we see about getting you to the Tower now, huh?”

He follows the chain to where it’s attached to a pole sticking out of the ground and scowls at it.

“Hey, Karen, how do I get this thing off?” Peter asks.

“It’s a pretty weak metal. By my estimates, you should be strong enough to yank against it with both hands and your full body weight to snap it,” Karen tells him.

“Thanks!” Peter exclaims, going to do just that. He glances at the dog, who’s now watching him curiously. “It’s okay, buddy! I’m just going to snap this really fast so we can get out of here.”

The dog merely tilts his head, and Peter could swear there’s an understanding glint in his eye. He quickly grabs the chain with both hands, careful to make sure there’s no tension on the dog’s end. It takes four vicious tugs before the chain finally snaps, and Peter sighs in relief.

He turns to find the dog prancing around enthusiastically, as if realizing that he’s free, and Peter lets out a loud laugh.

“I bet that makes you happy, huh?” he says, carefully picking up the chain that’s still trailing from the canine’s neck. “Come on, let’s get you to the Tower. It’s not far from here,” Peter tells him, beginning to walk in that direction but careful to keep the chain slack so it doesn’t pull on the dog’s neck.

Peter waits with baited breath for the animal to follow him, relieved when the dog trots after him trustingly.

It’s a slow journey back. He gets a lot of looks, and he figures he must make quite a sight, Spider-Man walking through the city with an abused dog trailing behind him. When he makes it to the Tower, he goes through one of the back entrances, mostly used for maintenance, and lets himself in.

“Hello, Peter,” FRIDAY greets.

“Hi, FRIDAY. Listen, I’ve got a dog with me, but let’s just keep it between us, yeah?” Peter pleads.

“If Tony asks me directly, I can’t lie, but otherwise, I see no reason to tell him,” FRIDAY says, and Peter grins. It’s almost like the AI is on his side.

At first, the dog balks at the entrance, unsure of the big building, but after additional coaxing, he relaxes and walks in after Peter.

Peter takes them to Tony’s workshop, knowing there’ll be a pair of shears he can use to cut the chain away. He guides the dog around all the spare pieces and parts littering the floor, taking them over to the couch Peter occasionally naps on. He pats the cushion, and the dog understands, quickly jumping onto it.

“Good boy! You’re a smart one, aren’t you?”

Peter hears a whir and turns to find DUM-E approaching them curiously, looking the canine up and down, and Peter laughs.

“Hey, DUM-E! Would you mind fetching me the shears? I gotta get this chain off,” Peter commands, and DUM-E trills happily at being made useful. The bot happily rolls away to do as he’s told, and the dog cocks his head curiously as he watches it.

Peter scratches the pup’s head, examining his neck closely. “That looks awful. Poor babe. Hey, you need a name,” Peter tells the dog. “How about… Tybalt? I think you look like a Tybalt.”

The dog’s ears perk up at that and he gives Peter a big lick. “That sounds like a yes! Tybalt it is.”

DUM-E returns with the shears and Tybalt rightfully flinches away, not looking enthusiastic at all. “I know, they look horrible and scary. But I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Tybalt whimpers in fright, but Peter soothes him with a quick pat. He carefully holds the big tool up to the dog to let him sniff at it, and Tybalt scrunches his nose at the cold metal.

“See? They’re not so bad,” Peter tells him. He carefully stands up and opens the shears, tucking one blade under the chain as gently as he can, freezing when Tybalt lets out a pained whine. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Peter says frantically. “It has to be done, I’m so sorry.”

Tybalt whines again but stays still after that, only slightly jerking when Peter quickly snaps the shears shut, hoping to make it as quick and painless as possible. He grins in satisfaction when the cheap chain easily breaks, and he gently begins the process of peeling it away from Tybalt’s bruised skin and matted fur.

The dog lets out a few more cries, and Peter shushes him sweetly, talking to him in low tones to soothe him. Once the rest of the chain falls free, he gets up and reaches for the first aid kit Tony keeps on the wall, taking out the gauze and disinfectant.

That should be okay to use on a dog, right?

Peter carefully cleans out the cuts around the dog’s neck and wraps it loosely in bandages. He’s not actually sure he did everything right, but Tybalt seems calmer now, letting his head fall to rest on Peter’s thigh.

Peter strokes the dog, smiling when Tybalt lets out a sigh of content, eyes starting to fall shut. That’s why Peter can’t help the irritation that flashes through him when loud footsteps make their way into the lab, startling the poor animal.

He softens a little when it’s Tony that walks in, but Tybalt’s head shoots up, wary of the new appearance. Peter pats him soothingly.

“It’s okay, boy. Mr. Stark just doesn’t know how to be considerate of others,” Peter snarks, and Tony stares at him with disbelieving eyes before shaking his head.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he mutters. “Imagine my surprise when I get onto my phone to see that a picture of Spider-Man is number one trending on Twitter. Imagine how even _more_ surprised I was to see Spider-Man with a mangy mutt at his side, _waltzing into my Tower._ ”

Peter takes out his phone in surprise and, sure enough, he sees about a dozen texts and screenshots from Ned.

“Oops,” he says sheepishly.

“Yeah. Oops. Care to tell my _why_ there is a _whole_ dog in my workshop, laying on my very expensive couch?” Tony asks with raised eyebrows.

Peter wraps an arm around the big dog. “He was being abused and left chained to a pole. It was cutting into his skin!” he says heatedly, gesturing to the bandage and looking genuinely upset. “He was so scared and starving and I couldn’t just leave him there.”

Tony tries to stay stern, he really does. But now he has not one, but _two_ sets of puppy eyes on him, and he could never resist Peter’s. He’s sure the kid knows it, too. He sighs, running a hand down his face.

“Kid, you can’t – you can’t just take people’s dogs,” he tries to say, but Peter interrupts him.

“If it was a kid, you wouldn’t be saying that!” Peter says hotly.

“That’s different, and you know it,” Tony says, trying to stay calm. He doesn’t want to make the kid mad, but Spider-Man or not, he runs the risk of getting in trouble. Plus, Tony would prefer to not have animals smuggled into his building.

“Do I? Why can’t ‘Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man’ apply to animals, too?” Peter argues, glaring at him determinedly.

Tony’s just about to try and delicately put an end to the conversation when the sound of heels approaching catches all of their attention. Pepper walks in, looking as immaculate and put-together as always.

“Tony, you can’t keep ignoring video – oh!” she exclaims, taking in the sight before her. She immediately melts when Tybalt looks up at her with big eyes. “Oh, you are so handsome!” she tells him, walking over.

“Be careful,” Peter warns. “He’s kind of scared of people. He’s been abused.”

At that, Pepper frowns and slows her pace, approaching more cautiously. She sticks out a hand, and Tybalt sniffs it warily but doesn’t seem to have the same reservations with her as she did with Peter. Pepper smiles delightedly and rewards him with vigorous head scritches.

“Huh,” Peter says curiously. “I guess maybe he was abused by a male? It took a while before he let me touch him.”

Tybalt makes a happy sound, giving Pepper a big lick. She laughs happily. “Oh, you’re such a sweetheart.”

Tony watches the scene, feeling his heart absolutely sinking because he’s got a feeling he already knows how this one ends. _Unhappy wife…_

“Pete, why don’t we get him something to eat and then we can look up a good shelter for him? I can personally make sure he finds a good home,” Tony says, trying to be as gentle as possible.

When Peter looks up at him, his whole face seems to fall. “But… Can’t he just stay here?”

Tony’s heart clenches and he tries to plant his feet against the voice that’s begging him to give in to the kid, as usual. “Peter, we can’t… We can’t take care of a dog. You have school and I have meetings and boring superhero stuff to do. Who’s going to let him out? Walk him? Play with him and keep him company? Dogs aren’t like cats,” he reasons.

This time, it’s Pepper who scoffs at him. “Are you kidding? We have a building full of people who could walk him and more than enough room. Plus, Peter’s over here practically every day and could play with him.”

Tony groans. “Oh, not you too!”

Pepper straightens up and crosses her arms. “Yes, me too. This could be a good thing! Plus, an emotional support dog isn’t a bad idea, either. I’m sure Peter would love to help train him, right?”

At this, Peter nods excitedly, face alight with happiness and hope. Tony sighs in defeat, knowing there’s no way in hell he’d make it out alive if he says no now. Plus, he really doesn’t have it in him to take that happy look off of Peter’s face.

“I hate you two. I really do. The mutt stays off the furniture,” Tony says sternly, but his remark is cut off by Pepper and Peter high-fiving enthusiastically.

Peter gently gives the dog a hug. “Hear that, boy? You’re ours now! Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am blown away by all the comments I got for the first chapter, oh my gosh! You guys are so wonderful and lovely. I was so worried you guys wouldn't like this, haha. I'm much more used to writing angst.
> 
> Don't forget, if you ever want to chitchat or send me pictures of animals or talk about how good and pure irondad is, you can always come talk to me on my tumblr @the-great-escapism.
> 
> Please leave a comment/kudos on your way out! I love hearing what you guys think. <3


	3. Chapter 3

Movie nights with May are his favorite. And yeah, of course movie nights with the Avengers are pretty surreal, but Peter savors the rare bit of time he gets to spend with his aunt. Between Peter’s various extracurriculars and May’s demanding job, nights like these are hard to come by.

They’re watching the _Stark Trek_ (2009) reboot, which is one of Peter’s favorite movies ever. (And no, it definitely does _not_ have anything to do with how attractive Chris Pine is.)

May loves to tease him about it. “Kirk is looking _particularly_ dashing in this scene,” she says, eyes shining with mirth, and Peter takes a pillow and whacks her with it.

“May!” he exclaims, face burning. “I do _not_ have a crush. Oh my _god._ ”

She just laughs and reaches for another container of curry. “If you say so.”

Peter pouts and finishes off the rest of his samosa before standing up, picking up all the empty containers of Indian takeout.

“Can you pause it, please? I’m going to throw this away and take the trash out.”

“Of course, babe,” May says, and man, Peter just fucking loves his aunt. He’s certain he has the very best one.

He ties up the trash bag and quickly makes his way downstairs and out the building to toss the bag into the dumpster, sighing happily at the warm air that meets him. He loves this time of year, when it’s not too cold and not too hot. Perfect.

Peter swings the bag into the dumpster and freezes at the squeal that sounds, thinking for one wild second that the _trash_ just let out a noise of pain. Then he shakes his head, because _what the hell, Parker?_

Vaguely thinking that this is exactly how crime shows start, Peter turns the flashlight on his phone on and cautiously walks closer to the dumpster, peering over the edge.

The immediate hissing noise has Peter taking a startled jump back, before he hesitantly edges closer again, heart thumping wildly. And yeah, there’s definitely a self-preserving part of him that’s telling him to run the fuck away, but the part of him that’s curious overrides it.

This time, Peter’s a little more prepared to see the glowing eyes that flash back at him, reflecting the light of his phone.

“Oh my god!” he exclaims at the sight of the raccoon. He carefully dims the light some so as not to startle the creature even more but leaves enough to get a good look at it, ready to jump away if the animal tries to lunge at him.

The raccoon watches him with a fierce expression, and Peter realizes that one of its paws is raised and curled into itself.

“Oh, are you hurt?” Peter asks softly, trying to get a better look. His question is answered when the raccoon tries to scuttle away and hide behind a trash bag, gait awkward as it limps. “Poor little guy.”

Peter thinks for a moment, trying to debate on what he should do. No clinic or place that could help would be open at this hour, but May is waiting on him inside to finish the rest of the movie.

He could just turn away and pretend like he never saw the animal… Except he really can’t. He knows he won’t be able to get the image of the hurt little paw out of his head.

Decision made, Peter runs back to his apartment. He sighs when he sees May waiting for him on the couch. He _hates_ to do this to her, especially when they rarely get nights like these, but some things just can’t be helped, he supposes.

“Hey, May?” he asks hesitantly. She looks up at him.

“Everything okay?” she asks, taking in the conflicted look on his face.

“I’m honestly not feeling that great. I think maybe I ate too much too quickly. Plus, on top of all the tests I’ve had lately, I think I’m just overtired,” he says, not even having to try that hard to look bummed out.

May gets up, face softening. “Oh, baby. That’s okay. Why don’t you go get some sleep? We can finish the movie later this weekend, okay?”

Peter lets out a breath of relief, filled with yet another rush of gratitude for his loving and selfless aunt.

“I’m really sorry, May,” he mumbles as she leans forward to give him a kiss on the forehead.

“Nonsense. I’m not bothered at all. Now, go get some sleep,” she says, ruffling his hair affectionately. “I love you.”

“Love you, too!” Peter replies, quickly making his escape.

He makes sure to go through his nightly routine of brushing his teeth and whatnot, even tossing on a pair of pajamas so as not to raise any suspicion. He climbs into bed and bundles up, waiting an extra thirty minutes for May to assume he’s probably asleep by now before getting up and donning his suit.

Careful to avoid all the spots on the floor that creak, he makes his way to the window and hauls himself out, quickly scaling the side of the building to land by the dumpster.

“Good evening, Peter,” Karen greets.

“Hi, Karen. Can you scan the dumpster and tell me if there’s a raccoon in it?” he asks.

After a second, Karen says, “There does appear to be a raccoon in there. It seems to have a fractured radius. No sign of rabies.”

“Awesome, thanks, Karen.”

Peter thinks for a second about the best course of action. Bruce would probably be his best bet with helping him get the creature the medical help it needs, but to do that, Peter’s going to have to pick the raccoon up.

“Hey, this suit is knife-proof now, right?” Peter asks the AI.

She sounds amused when she responds with, “Yes, Peter, Mr. Stark ensured this after the last incident,” and Peter scowls.

“I thought we agreed not to mention that again?”

“My apologies,” Karen says, not sounding apologetic at all.

Peter rolls his eyes and turns his focus back to the task at hand. “Right. So I guess I have to pick you up,” he says, eyeing the raccoon warily. “Please don’t kill me.”

He carefully creeps forward, backing the animal into the corner of the dumpster, trying to ignore the pang of guilt that shoots through him at the look of pure terror in the creature’s eyes.

Peter decides to make this as quick as possible. With a speed that never would have been possible if he wasn’t Spider-Man, he darts forward and grabs the animal as gently as he possibly can, heart wrenching at the petrified wail.

“I know, I know! I’m sorry, but it’s the only way I know how to help you,” he tells it, shifting the animal in his arms so that he doesn’t jostle its hurt leg.

The raccoon tries to lash out at him, snarling and biting. Peter winces at the pressure from the teeth but otherwise ignores it once he realizes that the fabric is holding up against the attack.

Peter quickly starts to make his way to the Avengers Tower, talking to the creature in his arm all the while.

“I’m sorry, I know this is probably super terrifying. I bet you’ve never been this high off the ground before. It’s probably even worse because I’m only using one arm to swing. You’re lucky I’ve perfected it by now,” Peter rambles, feeling the poor thing quake in his hold.

“You need a name,” Peter declares. “How about… Bandit? Hmmm, I don’t know. I’m not feeling it. What do you think? What about – Roxy! That’s pretty gender-neutral, right? Roxy the raccoon. And it has a ring to it!”

Peter keeps up the mindless chatter until he reaches the Tower, scaling up to the window of his room there. Because he’s over there so much, Tony gave Peter his own room in the Tower and at the Compound. The window slides open, FRIDAY recognizing his signature.

“Hey, FRIDAY, is Dr. Banner here?” he asks in greeting.

“Yes, Peter, he is in his private quarters. Do you require assistance?”

“Um, yeah, actually. Can you tell him to meet me down in the med bay?” Peter asks. “It’s not exactly an emergency, but I do need his help.”

“Certainly,” she replies dutifully.

Peter looks down at the giant ball of fluff in his arms. “The scary part is over! Dr. Banner is going to help make your leg feel all better, I promise.”

Roxy just chitters unhappily as they make their way to the medical wing. Bruce is already waiting there, a worried expression on his face as he snaps a pair of gloves on. His eyes widen when he catches sight of Peter.

“Is that…”

“A raccoon,” Peter confirms, and Bruce looks ready to faint.

“Jesus Christ, Peter. Why are you holding a raccoon? That’s so dangerous! It could have rabies!” Bruce cries, looking stressed.

Peter can’t help but feel a little insulted. “I’m not _that_ stupid. Karen checked, and it’s negative for rabies. I never would have picked it up otherwise. Besides, that’s why I’m wearing the suit. I knew the claws and teeth wouldn’t be able to tear through it.”

Bruce sighs. “I see what Tony means now,” he mutters to himself, and Peter grimaces, pretty sure he knows _exactly_ what Tony says about his newly-acquired habit of bringing animals to the Tower. “So what’s wrong with it?”

“Roxy,” Peter says the name pointedly, “has a broken radius, according to Karen. I wasn’t sure how to fix it good enough, so you’re my next-best option.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow at him. “You _do_ realize I’m not even a medical doctor, right? Much less a veterinarian.”

Peter just shrugs helplessly, and Bruce sighs again.

“Luckily for you, this shouldn’t be too hard,” Bruce tells him, opening a cabinet full of different bottles of medicine. “Even more fortunate, most of the sedatives we keep here are safe for animals, so as long as you hold Roxy still long enough for me to get him to sleep, I should be able to put a cast or splint on him.”

Peter looks at him like he hung the moon, and Bruce tries not to melt under the gaze. He prepares a syringe, and Peter gently holds the squirming animal still, talking to it in soothing tones.

In no time at all, the raccoon is passed out on the table in front of them.

Just then, Tony bursts in, looking frazzled. “Peter Benjamin Parker, tell me FRIDAY is just messing with me and you did _not_ carry an actual raccoon to my Tower?”

“FRIDAY!” Peter exclaims in an accusatory tone.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” she says, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I had to, according to the Zookeeper Protocol.”

Tony has now spotted the limp animal on the table, and his face has gone totally pale. “Peter, what the _fuck?_ ”

“Okay, listen! It’s totally not even my fault. I was taking out the trash for May, and Roxy was in the dumpster and I realized the poor baby was hurt and I knew Bruce could probably help, so I decided to bring Roxy here.”

Tony closes his eyes, because he loves this kid to death, but Peter’s going to bring Tony to an early grave if he keeps up with this.

“Peter. Kid. You do realize that you picked up a _wild animal_ and swung with it across the city, right? What if it had bitten you? What if you’d gotten hurt swinging with one arm?”

“Well, technically, Roxy _did_ bite me – “

Tony chokes, heart rate skyrocketing. “WHAT – “

“ – but I knew it’d be fine because the suit is bulletproof!” Peter finishes, while Tony tries to stave off an actual panic attack. He waits a second for his heart to stop trying to beat out of his chest before he speaks again.

“So you’re saying you’re chill with this rabid animal _gnawing_ on my multi-million dollar tech?” Tony asks flatly.

“Roxy is _not_ a rabid animal!” Peter protests, because of _course_ he’d fixate on that part. Tony runs a tired hand through his hair.

“Look, kid. You just – you _can’t_ just pick up wild animals and treat them like they’re your new pets. It’s dangerous for you and for them.” _And my stress levels,_ Tony adds internally.

Peter looks down, face coloring with shame. “I’m sorry, Mr. Stark. I just wanted to help. I couldn’t leave Roxy there. I couldn’t.”

And damn if Tony can’t help but soften at how freaking pure this kid is. He can’t really fault the selfless hero for wanting to save a helpless animal. Tony sighs heavily, kind of hating himself for giving in with his next words.

“I know you wanted to help. And it looks like you have,” Tony says, nodding to where Bruce is taking out supplies. “But we definitely can’t keep a raccoon here, so tomorrow Roxy is going to have to go to rehabilitation center, so he can go back to the wild once he’s healed.”

Peter’s face falls, but he’s a smart kid – he knows they don’t have the means or training to keep a raccoon and that that wouldn’t be best for the animal anyway. Peter nods, a pang in his chest at the thought of saying goodbye.

“Okay,” he says quietly, still staring at the ground.

“But since it’s late and Bruce here still needs to wrap up the little guy’s leg, I think we’ll hold off until tomorrow,” Tony tells him, holding back a smile as the kid looks up, eyes brightening with excitement. Then Peter freezes and Tony frowns.

“What’s wrong?” he asks in mild alarm.

Peter’s face reddens again. “Um, uh, Aunt May kind of… doesn’t know I’m here?”

Tony just crosses his arms and gestures for Peter to continue. “I may or may not have lied and told her I wasn’t feeling good so that I could – I don’t want to say _sneak_ – but leave without her knowing?”

“Kid, that is, by definition, what sneaking means,” Tony says in amusement.

Peter just swings his arms nervously. “Ah.”

“Yeah.” Tony considers, for a moment, letting the kid off the hook, but he’s been informed by Pepper that he needs to start actually holding the kid accountable like a parent would. “Well, I guess it’s really going to suck when you call her to tell her you’re staying the night at the Tower with a raccoon.”

Peter’s eyes widen in horror at the thought of having to tell May that he lied and skipped out on their movie night to swing a raccoon to the Tower.

“But can’t we just – I dunno… not?” Peter tries, and Tony chuckles at his eloquence.

“Sorry, kid. You’ve gotta own up to your bad decisions. A mature follow-through is important. Or so I’m told,” Tony says, and he catches Bruce smirking at him.

Peter nods defeatedly, nervously fumbling for his phone. He goes to step out of the room, sounding absolutely miserable when he starts with, “Hi, May. So, hypothetically speaking…”

Tony snorts at that, almost disappointed when the door closes behind the teen, effectively cutting off his voice. He looks up when he feels a set of eyes on him.

Bruce is staring at him, eyebrows raised.

“What?” Tony says, already on the defensive.

“You are just _such_ a dad,” he teases.

Tony will never say it out loud, but he can’t say he’s not perfectly happy with that assessment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. I haven't been as productive as I had planned to be with this story, so I'm not actually sure the next chapter will be up tomorrow. I'm also kind of in a bad headspace which makes it hard for me to write happy things. I'm so sorry.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoyed this. I'm so thankful for all the comments you guys leave. They honestly make my day.


	4. Chapter 4

Ned and Peter are walking back to Peter’s apartment after decathlon practice. MJ had to cut the meeting short for a doctor’s appointment, so now the duo is excited to get an earlier start to their weekend, which will include, but not be limited to, so many LEGOs and multiple movies.

It takes exactly eight minutes into their walk to realize that’s not going to happen.

They’re just passing by their favorite ice cream shop, contemplating whether or not it’s worth it to spend the money, and are just coming to the conclusion that it most _definitely_ is worth it, when Peter spots a small flurry in the pine straw just under one of the trees that are neatly-spaced down the sidewalk.

He intends on ignoring it, figuring that it’s just trash or debris, which isn’t uncommon on the streets of New York, but when he tries to turn into the shop, a persistent feeling tell him that he _needs_ to investigate nags at him.

Peter rolls his eyes at himself, sure that it’s just his spidey sense being overreactive, which happens every so often.

He quickly jogs over to the brown lump, thinking that he can at least put it in the trash. When his eyes focus on the object, he does a complete double take.

It’s not an object, he quickly realizes. It’s a _bird._

He quickly turns to face Ned. “It’s a bird!” he exclaims to Ned, who’s been watching him curiously. Ned perks up excitedly and quickly rushes to Peter’s side. The bird is watching them with wide eyes and shifting its wings as if trying to take flight.

“He’s injured,” Ned observes with a frown, watching as the bird tries to spread its wings and noticing that its left wing is bent at an awkward angle.

Peter gently sticks his hand out, cooing softly as the bird flinches, letting out a panicked noise. “Oh, it’s okay! We just want to help you fix your wing, that’s all.” He carefully cups his hand and scoops the bird up.

When he’s sure the bird won’t go hurtling to the ground or try to make a daring escape, peter straightens up. He freezes when he realizes he’s acquired a small audience.

A little girl points to him and tugs at her mom’s sleeve. “Mommy, look! That boy has a bird!”

Peter flashes her a quick smile and turns to Ned. “We should probably, uh, take him to the Tower? To help him like the last couple of times?”

The look on Ned’s face is completely ecstatic. “Um, _duh._ Definitely. Totally. And purely for the bird’s sake. Not because I’ve never been inside. Or because we might end up seeing an Avenger.”

Peter winces. “Right. Ground rules: keep your cool. These people are lame anyway. I watched Clint eat a cookie that had fallen off the floor. They believe in the five second rule. So ordinary.”

Ned just stares at him with wide eyes, completely forgetting about the whole bird in Peter’s hand. He doesn’t even wait for Peter before he turns around to start walking in the direction of the subway.

“Oh, Mr. Stark is going to _love_ this,” Peter mumbles to himself, following behind.

-

After many strange looks and a lot of angry squawks from the creature in his hand, they finally make it to Stark Tower. Just like the time with the dog, Peter takes them to the back entrance, generally used for maintenance, except this time, he doesn’t have the conspicuousness of the suit, so no one pays them any mind. Beside him, Ned is practically vibrating.

Peter’s just about to swipe his access card, when he remembers something FRIDAY had said after the last incident.

_“I had to, according to the Zookeeper Protocol.”_

Peter freezes, biting his lip in thought. He turns to his friend. “Ned, I need you to hold him while I check something.”

Ned carefully takes the small creature, while Peter swipes his card and steps into the building, gesturing for Ned not to follow him.

“Hello, Peter,” FRIDAY says.

“Hi, FRIDAY,” Peter responds. “Hey, listen. That Zookeeper Protocol thing that Mr. Stark has in place – does that go for anyone who brings an animal into the Tower or just me?”

There’s a pause before FRIDAY answers. “The protocol is only specific to you, Peter.”

“So if, say, someone else brought an animal into the building, Mr. Stark wouldn’t necessarily be alerted then?” Peter asks.

“Correct,” FRIDAY confirms, and Peter could swear there’s a hint of amusement in her computerized voice. Peter laughs.

“Cool! Thanks, FRI!” Peter says before gesturing Ned in.

As they make their way upstairs to the Avengers’ living area, Peter becomes genuinely fearful that Ned is going to drop the shaking bird in his excitement. They’re literally just in the elevator, and Ned can’t seem to stop the near-constant swivel of his head.

When the doors slide open, Ned can’t help the yelp that escapes him.

And thus, gains the attention of everyone in the room. Sam and Clint look up from where they’re in the kitchen, both making heaping sandwiches while Natasha perches on the counter and eats directly out of a jar of pickles.

“Ohmyfreakinggod, Miss Black Widow ma’am, oh wow, _hi!_ And Mr. Falcon Bird Avenger sir and Mr. Hawkeye Clint, _wow!_ I’m Ned!” Ned introduces in a single breath, going up to them as if to shake their hands, only to stop last minute. “Wait! I’m not _worthy._ ”

Peter resists the urge to physically face palm. The Avengers just stare at them for a second. While Clint and Sam seem completely taken aback, Nat just continues to munch on a pickle, an eyebrow raised.

Peter decides to step in. “Uh, hi. This is my friend Ned… which you probably already figured out. Um. We were actually looking for you guys.”

“Yeah?” Sam asks, staring at the bird in Ned’s hand. “Tony’s supposed to be back in an hour or two if you need to wait for him.”

“No!” Peter exclaims quickly, gesturing to the precious cargo in Ned’s hand. “He, uh, probably won’t be too thrilled with this.”

Natasha just keeps eating, a hint of amusement in her eyes.

“So why were you looking for us?” Clint asks curiously, and Peter looks at him as though it’s obvious.

“This is a bird. You’re a bird. Figured you guys might know how to help,” Peter says, and this time, Natasha lets out a snort, while Clint gives him an indignant look.

“Jesus Christ,” Sam mutters. “That is definitely _not_ how that works. God.”

“Falcon just used the Lord’s name in vain twice in one sentence, wow!” Ned says reverently.

“Guess I’ll have to pray twice as hard tonight, then,” Sam jokes, and Ned nearly faints.

Finally, the bird in Ned’s hands lets out a pained warble, and everyone’s attention is brought back to it. Even Natasha puts the jar down on the counter and washes her hands before coming over and gently taking the creature from Ned.

“There we go, love, it’s okay now,” she croons gently, and everyone looks at the typically stoic woman in surprise. “What? Someone has to make sure you idiots don’t kill the poor thing.”

“Funny,” Peter says wryly. “That’s exactly what MJ said.”

Natasha just gives him a knowing look, and Peter tries not to blush.

“FRIDAY, how do we take care of this little guy?” Sam asks.

“You need to cut a twelve-inch strip of veterinary bandaging. Then fold the wing against the bird’s body in a natural position. Carefully wrap the tape around the bird’s body to hold the wing in place. Wrap the tape under the unbroken wing and in front of the feet,” FRIDAY instructs, and Natasha nods.

“Should be easy enough,” Nat muses. “Peter, Tony has an animal First Aid kit in his lab next to the human one. Can you run and get it?”

“Yeah,” he says, quickly getting up and hustling out of the room before Ned can say anything. He knows that if Ned goes with him, they’ll never make it back out of Tony’s lab. Plus, Peter, Pepper, and Rhodey are the only ones with clearance to enter the lab.

When he gets down there, he finds Tybalt and Bagheera curled up together in the hall, and he smiles. Initially, Bagheera was not happy with the new addition to their little family, but they eventually warmed up to each other and became the best of friends.

They both have giant cushions to lay on inside of Tony’s lab, where the two animals usually lounge while Tony and Peter work. It’s domestic in a way Peter never could have imagined before.

“Hey, babes,” he greets and leans down to pet them. The large dog towers over the cat, but Bagheera doesn’t seem to mind as she rubs herself against Peter’s legs while he scratches Tybalt’s head.

After a moment, Peter gets up and keys in the password to the lab and FRIDAY scans him before he goes in. The two animals trot happily behind him, immediately running over to DUM-E and U, who have somehow become their friends. DUM-E whirs happily when Tybalt nudges the bot.

Peter shakes his head and laughs, taking the kit he needs off the wall. He turns around to leave, calling to the two animals to follow, and freezes when he nearly runs into Tony.

“O-oh! Hi, Mr. Stark!” he says, hoping his face and voice don’t look and sound as panicked as he feels.

“Hey, kid. I didn’t know you were coming today. I thought you were having a nerd sleepover with Ned?” Tony asks, walking into the lab and shrugging off his suit jacket. Bagheera trails behind him, begging for attention. Surprisingly, Tony and the cat have hit it off, though Tony likes to pretend otherwise.

Peter scowls at him. “It’s not a _nerd_ sleepover. Anywho, we wanted to do a movie night, and I figured the screens here are better, so…”

“That’s fine,” Tony tells him while continuing to bustle around the lab. “The fridge and pantry are both stocked, so feel free to have at it.”

Peter laughs nervously and hopes Tony doesn’t catch it. “Cool! Thanks, Mr. Stark.” He kind of wants to get on his knees and thank God that Tony’s kept his back turned and been too distracted to notice the box in his hands.

And no sooner does the thought cross his mind when Tony finally stops and looks at him, eyes narrowing suddenly.

“Wait, why do you have that?” Tony asks abruptly.

Peter looks down at his hands. “Oh, this? Ya know. Inventory.”

Tony’s eyebrows fly up as he gives Peter a look of disbelief. “Inventory.”

“Uh, yeah,” Peter stutters out. “Because, you know. You can never have enough supplies. And in our line of work, you just never know what’s going to happen. Tybalt and Hera could get injured.”

Tony just stares at him disbelievingly and watches as the teen physically tries to keep himself from fidgeting nervously. After a moment, Tony tosses his hands up and looks up at the ceiling, as if asking for mercy from God Himself.

“Peter. What did you do?”

“I brought my Ned to the Tower! Like I was telling you,” Peter insists, and Tony just levels him with a glare.

“Nope. A lie. I can smell it. That’s a talent of mine, did you know?” Tony informs him.

And – _oh man –_ there’s no way he’s getting out of this one. Peter is so going to die.

“It’s really not that a big deal,” Peter mumbles, and Tony gives him a skeptical look.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Come on, mister. Lead the way. Scoot scoot,” Tony says, ushering them out. Curious, Bagheera and Tybalt follow behind them, happily getting on the elevator with them.

Tybalt is panting and smiling so happily, a stark contrast to the miserable look on Peter’s face. When the elevator doors open up, Peter can see that Sam, Nat, Clint, and Ned are all sitting in a circle on the floor.

They look up when the elevator dings their arrival.

Ned, for his part, looks like he might keel over and die of happiness. The rest however, don’t spare Tony and Peter much more than a cursory glance before turning their eyes back on their charge.

“What’s going on, then?” Tony asks, immediately marching up to the circles. When his eyes land on the feathery creature in the middle of the circle, Tony just sighs and turns to Peter.

“I, uh, picked up a pretty cute chick today, if I do say so myself,” Peter cracks nervously, and Tony can’t help the way the tension seems out of him.

_This kid._

“I see,” he says wryly.

“He was just lying on the ground with a broken wing, I couldn’t _not_ help him. I think I’ve decided he looks like a Manson,” Peter informs.

“Incredible,” Tony mutters, watching as Peter hands Nat the kit. “And you got all of them to side with you, too?”

“Hey, birds help birds,” Clint jokes, and Tony rolls his eyes.

“I’m not even surprised, birdbrain.”

“Now that’s just rude,” Clint pouts.

Bagheera pushes through their little circle and curiously looks at the little brown bird. The cat sticks out a gentle paw, but Peter scoops her up.

“No, Hera! Not a toy. Go play with Tybalt,” he scolds, setting her down and nudging her away.

“How?” Tony asks suddenly. “How is it even statistically _possible_ that you’ve found this many animals?”

“The kid is basically Snow White,” Sam comments and Peter sputters indignantly.

“I am _not_ the equivalent of a Disney princess!” he protests.

“Whatever you say, princess,” Clint teases, and Tony sighs.

“You’re all insufferable. Except Nat. And Ted.”

Ned just wheezes, while everyone settles to watch as Natasha delicately wraps the bird’s wing. Eventually, Tony starts to move away.

“That thing needs to be gone by tomorrow!” he calls, and Peter quickly scrambles up after him.

“Wait! Mr. Stark, it’ll take up to four to eight wings for his wing to be healed!”

Tony turns around to face him, already shaking his head. “We don’t run an animal rehab, Pete. You know this. We can search for a nice wildlife rehabilitator to take him in.”

“What if I take over? I can build him is own cage, I can consult with a rehabilitator and take care of him. You wouldn’t have to do anything, I promise,” Peter pleads.

And goddammit, Tony has never been able to say no to the kid. Not when he’s giving him The Look. Tony scrapes a tired hand over his face and looks to where the other Avengers are crowded around the bird, a domestic and soft-looking picture.

There’s definitely been a noticeable change in the atmosphere of the Tower since the addition of the animals, as much as Tony hates to admit it.

“Fine. But the moment you slack off or I feel that the bird isn’t being properly taken care of, he’s out of here. Capiche?” And damn if _that_ doesn’t make Tony sound like a dad. Peter nods furiously.

“Of course, Mr. Stark! I promise. Thank you so, so much!”

"Yeah, yeah,” Tony says gruffly before walking off. He needs a drink. Or five.

When Peter turns around, he finds Ned gaping at him.

“ _Dude!”_ the teen exclaims. “You have Iron Man wrapped around your finger!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. The next chapter might take even longer. I just found out that one of my dogs has cancer and the other has Lyme disease. So I'm just. Not doing great right now, and writing about animals might be hard. I just wanted to give you guys something after making you wait so long.
> 
> As always, feel free to come yell at me on tumblr @the-great-escapism. I might die if you don't. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is a Disney princess: confirmed. Tony just accepts it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, this is unedited, we die like men.

The last thing Peter wants to be doing on a Saturday morning is picking up trash around Central Park. And it’s not like Peter’s opposed to helping out the neighborhood and keeping the city clean, but Spider-Man already does his job, thank you very much.

He ends up by the pond, picking Styrofoam cups and soda cans and plastic wrappers off the ground. People, he notes with disgust, even go as far as to chuck bits of trash under the bushes. He moves the branches of one aside, trying to untangle a plastic bag from it.

Just as he gets the flimsy piece of plastic free, a small movement catches his eye, and he flinches back instinctively. For a second, he just stands there and listens for movement but doesn’t hear anything.

Curious, he crouches closer again, ignoring the very dull prickling in the back of his neck. Whatever it is can’t be that dangerous, considering his spidey sense isn’t yelling at him. He moves the branch over again and scans the ground with sharp eyes. He nearly leaps back again once he sees it.

A small snake is curled up, nestled halfway under some pine straw, and for a second, all Peter can do is stare.

“Are you trying to dissociate your way out of community service?” MJ jokes, coming up behind him. He shakes his head.

“Look,” he says, pointing to the creature. She curiously kneels next to him and looks between the branches.

“Well, hey, there,” she croons, immediately softening as she takes in the small creature. Even MJ can’t help but be enamored with every animal she meets. She looks back up at Peter. “How is it you find every injured animal in the state of New York?”

He shrugs helplessly. “It’s not like I go look – wait, injured?”

She nods, leaning closer to the coiled snake, who flicks its tongue in warning.

“MJ, no! It could be venomous,” Peter says, panicking. She stops and raises her eyebrow at him.

“He’s not,” she states matter-of-factly. “Look, his head is small and round. If he were venomous, he’d have a triangular head. And also – he’s hurt. See that cut on his side? I think that’s why he’s not moving away from us.”

He looks to where she’s gesturing and realizes she’s right.

“Poor guy,” he says sympathetically. He moves to leave him be, but MJ gives him a Look. “What?” he asks, feeling defensive.

“You’re going to take him to Stark Tower,” she tells him, crossing her arms.

“Um. No?”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “Wrong.”

“No! Not wrong! I am not touching that,” he protests, and she just scoffs.

“Peter, how is it you can stand at the end of a gun without blinking twice, but you won’t hold a snake? Seriously, it’s not that bad. This one’s completely harmless,” she insists.

“Fine then,” he pouts. “You do it if you’re so confident.”

The look she gives him is unimpressed. She carefully crawls closer, freezing for a second when the small snake looks like it’s about to bolt. Then, so fast that Peter barely even processes it, she darts forward and picks it up effortlessly, careful to avoid the painful-looking cut.

It flicks its tongue at her, flailing around for one wild moment.

“Jesus Christ!” Peter swears, heart racing. MJ straightens up and turns to him, smiling widely.

“See? Easy,” she says cockily, and Peter huffs out a breath, heart still in his throat. Just then, his phone buzzes, and he fumbles for it hastily, finding a text from Happy waiting for him.

_Here._

“Aw, man,” Peter says, already edging away. “Happy’s here. Guess I’ve done my part in the community.”

“Parker! Here,” she says, thrusting her hand out to him, and he tries not to flinch as he’s met with the blank stare of the snake.

“I can’t take him!” he hisses. “Mr. Stark has a protocol. If I bring him into the building, FRIDAY has to alert him.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you can figure something out. Listen, I have a community service project to finish running. We can’t all slack off,” she deadpans, still holding the snake out.

“MJ. I can’t keep a snake hidden from Happy in the car,” he tries again.

“Of course you can. You already told me he raises the partition as soon as you get in anyway. Come on,” she insists, giving him an impatient look, and Peter caves, holding out his hand. She carefully places the snake into his unsure hold. “See? I told you it’s not that bad.”

Peter definitely won’t admit it to her, but she’s right. Now that he’s holding it, he can’t help the way he softens as the snake curls slithers in his grasp a little, trying to get acquainted to the new grasp, tongue flicking out as it processes the new scent.

“MJ,” Peter tries one last time. “Happy’s going to see if I approach the car holding a snake.”

MJ rolls her eyes at him. “It’s like you don’t go a smart kid school or something,” she says dryly, walking over to one of the tables with snacks laid out on it. She pulls a blue tote bag out from under it and empties its contents onto the table before handing him the bag. Thankfully, no one seems to be paying them any attention.

“Put him in here,” MJ commands. “He’ll like the darker space anyway.”

Peter just shrugs and does what she says, figuring it’s the only way to get the snake – a whole ass snake, Jesus Christ – into the car anyway. Once he’s sure the poor thing is situated, he casually holds the bag at his side and makes his way to where Happy is waiting impatiently.

“Hi, Happy!” Peter says, trying to maintain his typical pep and cover up his nerves. A kitten is one thing, but sneaking a snake? That’s something entirely different.

“Took you long enough,” Happy grumbles, but Peter knows he doesn’t really mean it. As they pull away, MJ gives him a meaningful look and then pulls out her phone.

They barely make it down the street when Peter’s phone buzzes.

_If you kill him, you’re dead, Parker._

Peter just shakes his head and puts his phone up, settling the bag down next to him where he can keep an eye on it.

“So, what do you think Mr. Stark has planned for me today, Hap? Hapster! Happy, are you happy? You don’t seem very happy much, which is dreadfully ironic,” Peter rambles. He smirks when Happy lets out a huff and immediately raises the partition.

Peter leans back and relaxes, glad he doesn’t have to worry about the snake until he actually gets to the Tower.

The ride goes by quickly, Happy having driven the route a billion times before, and before Peter knows it, they’re pulling up to the Tower. He tries to think of ways to bypass the Zookeeper Protocol, especially since Tony’s tweaked the coding since the last time.

Peter grins widely when he suddenly gets an idea. _This just might work,_ he thinks to himself. _There’s no way Tony thought of this._

Once they’re parked, Happy gets out of the car and opens Peter’s door. Peter grabs the bag next to him gently, not wanting to jostle the animal inside, when suddenly the back of his neck prickles sharply. He freezes.

The bag feels _empty._

Alarmed, Peter hastily opens the bag, using his body to block what he’s doing from view. One glance confirms it: the snake is gone. Trying to keep the rising panic off his face, Peter scans the floor around him but doesn’t see it anywhere.

“You coming, kid?” Happy prompts, staring at him with a raised eyebrow. Peter looks back at him and smiles weakly.

“Uh, yeah. Um, I think I dropped my pen,” Peter lies, and Happy gives him a weird look.

“I’m sure it’ll come up when the car gets cleaned. For now, Tony has a billion. I’m sure you’ll survive,” Happy says dryly.

Peter’s phone vibrates again and another message from MJ flashes onto the screen.

_Did you guys get there fine?_

He feels anxiety coil in his stomach with MJ’s text mocking him and Happy’s pressing stare beside him.

“It was Ben’s pen!” he blurts suddenly, grasping for straws. _Desperate times…_

Something in Happy’s face goes uncharacteristically soft at that. Peter rarely talks about Ben.

“Want some help?” he offers, and Peter feels a rush of gratitude. Despite how Happy likes to act towards him, Peter knows that Happy is always ready to help him out if need be. He shakes his head.

“That’s okay. I’ll be up in a second. I’m just going to check under the seats really good real quick and then I’ll be up. Thanks, Happy,” he says, and the man gives him one last look before nodding and taking his leave.

Peter lets out a shaky breath and runs a stressed hand through his hair. His phone buzzes again, and he spares it a quick glance.

_I hope your lack of reply means you’re busy helping him._

Glancing around him to make sure no one’s watching, Peter quickly picks up his phone and turns the flashlight on, getting to his knees and searching under the back seat, heart thudding heavily in his chest when he doesn’t see anything.

He climbs over to the front and shines the light under the passenger seat, screaming internally when that still yields no results.

 _Oh, MJ is_ so _going to kill me,_ he thinks miserably.

Peter scrambles over to Happy’s seat and looks under it desperately, knowing that if it’s not there, then it somehow left the car in the way here.

He nearly yells when the light glints off an eye, startling him. Yeah, he’d _hoped_ the snake was there, but he’d just about accepted that it wouldn’t be. He sits back on his heels for a moment, taking in a deep breath as he tosses the creature a filthy look. 

“You scared the _shit_ out of me, you jerk,” Peter scolds, but it just flicks its tongue out dismissively.

Peter sighs and types out a quick response to MJ.

_duh. what’d you think i’d do, lose it?_

Narrowing his eyes at the snake, Peter darts his hand other the seat. “You’d better not bite me. Come on, you need to go back in the bag.”

He squeezes his eyes closed, trying to channel his inner MJ, before he gently but quickly pulls the snake out, praying he hasn’t hurt it further. Peter quickly straightens up and reaches for the abandoned bag, placing the wriggling creature back in it.

“Bad snek. Timeout for you,” Peter chides it jokingly.

Now that he’s taken care of _that_ particular problem, he gets out of the car with his cargo in tow and walks up to the elevator, eyeing FRIDAY’s scanner wearily. He won’t be able to get past it without her sensing the snake and alerting Tony.

Time to put his brilliant plan into action.

“Hey, FRI,” Peter greets.

“Peter,” the AI says warmly. “I believe the Avengers are warming up in the gym and await your presence.”

“Ah, cool, thanks FRIDAY. Hey, is Mr. Stark in the lab?” Peter wonders.

“No, Peter,” FRIDAY answers.

 _Perfect._ “Can you tell DUM-E to come down?” Peter asks, and if the AI finds the request an odd one, she doesn’t say anything about it.

“Certainly, if you wish.”

So Peter waits, standing there and waving awkwardly to anyone who walks past. He finds himself almost obsessively checking the bag, paranoid that the snake’s somehow disappeared again.

“You need a name,” he tells it as they. “Snek isn’t a name. Nope Rope. ‘Nope.’ Nah, I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, you’re not really that bad. You’re not even a danger noodle… Noodle. Spaghetti? Ew, no, that’s not a name. Mac? Short for macaroni?”

He studies the snake, completely ignoring its blank expression. “I don’t know. You don’t really look like a Mac. What if I combine the two? Spagoni?” Peter tosses out. “…That’s – that’s actually kind of cute. What do we think?”

The snake moves restlessly at the bottom of the bag, paying his captor no mind. Peter takes that as a confirmation.

“Spagoni it is.”

Just then, the elevator dings, and DUM-E wheels out, chirping excitedly.

“Hey, buddy!” Peter greets happily, patting the bot’s excited arm. “Listen, you think you can do me a favor?”

The bot whirs enthusiastically, quickly moving its arm up and down.

“You see this bag?” Peter asks, holding it up to DUM-E’s camera. “It has a snake in it. Now, I can’t take it inside, and neither can anyone else, or FRIDAY will have to alert Mr. Stark. But I think if _you_ do it, then it should be fine.”

DUM-E trills in excitement at the prospect of getting to help.

“FRIDAY, completely hypothetically – if DUM-E carried an animal into the building, would you have to alert Mr. Stark?”

When the AI speaks, her voice sounds amused. “Mr. Stark’s protocol mandates that he be notified when any human enters the building with living cargo. There is nothing specific to animals in general, since Bagheera likes to walk in and out. It also doesn’t say anything about the robots.”

Peter grins widely at that. “Perfect.” He turns to the bot waiting patiently for instructions. “Okay, DUM-E. You have to be super gentle, got it? Can’t drop it, that’s a living thing in there. I just need you to come to my room, so we can figure out what to do with it for now.”

The bot whirs again, spreading its claws and then closing them on the handles of the bag.

“Exactly! You’re doing great,” Peter praises, and DUM-E trills with joy.

It’s a slow process, but they eventually make it back to Peter’s room without incident, and Peter breathes a sigh of relief. Thankfully, FRIDAY hasn’t been forced to tattle yet.

There’s a voice in the back of Peter’s head that wonders what the point is anyway. There’s no way he can keep it hidden from Tony, if the last four attempts were anything to go by, but now it’s almost just the principle of the thing, a sort of game like How Long Can He Last?

Not very long, it turns out.

Peter’s just rummaging through his closet to find some sort of makeshift cage for the snake, when he hears a knock at the door and his heart leaps into his throat.

“Hey, ki – why is DUM-E in here?” Tony asks, taking in the scene before him.

Peter quickly backs out of his closet. “Oh, you know!” he says, and then just stops. Tony raises an eyebrow at him.

“…No, I _don’t_ know. That’s why I asked,” Tony says, already narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

“Oh,” Peter laughs nervously. “Right. Well, I’ve sort of been training him to help me carry my bags?”

He winces internally when it comes out as a question, and Tony just sighs.

“You… He’s not a _dog,_ Pete. Also. We both know you’re lying. And also, I just watched the bag move, and now my blood pressure is rising, so we might as well make it quick, yeah?” Tony says with faux calmness, and Peter blames this whole thing entirely on MJ.

“So, in my defense, it _wasn’t_ my idea, and I definitely did not want to bring it to the Tower, but MJ scares me more than you do, so,” Peter rambles nervously, and Tony bites back an amused smirk.

“Oh?” he asks, watching the kid fidget nervously as he approaches the bag still in DUM-E’s clutch.

“Girls, man,” Peter mutters, and Tony snorts at that, thinking of all the times Pepper’s chewed him out.

“That’s fair,” Tony concedes. “Now quit stalling. Cap saved running for last, just for you.”

“Oh, joy,” Peter grumbles. Running is his _least_ favorite. He sighs, accepting the early defeat. He coaxes the bag from the bot’s grip and sets it on the bed, Tony watching him with resigned eyes as Peter pulls the snake out.

For a moment, there’s silence. Tony closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and then opens them again.

“I’m tired,” he states, staring at the reptile.

Peter just stands there, letting the snake wrap around his wrist as he waits for more of a reaction from Tony. To his surprise, it never comes.

Unable to handle the silence, Peter hesitantly says, “If it makes you feel any better, he’s not venomous.”

Tony levels him with a dry look. “No shit, Peter.”

“Indeed,” FRIDAY interjects. “Mr. Parker seems to have found a garter snake. Completely harmless.”

Tony glares at the ceiling. “You’re fired.”

“Finally,” the AI sasses back, and Peter laughs at Tony’s incredulous look. Tony heaves yet another sigh and levels Peter with a pointed look.

“I can already guess how this is gonna go. I’m going to say, ‘Peter, you can’t keep the snake,’ and then you’re going to be like, ‘But Mr. Stark, he’s injured! Just until he gets better. I did great with the bird, didn’t I?’ and then I’ll say, ‘Yes, but that does not mean you’re a certified wildlife veterinarian.’ And after that, you’ll pull the god-awful puppy dog eyes on me and I’ll give in anyway, won’t I?” he says, sounding resigned.

Peter nods hesitantly, not quite sure how to respond to that. Tony turns his gaze to the heavens, tossing his hands up.

“Ridiculous. Fine. You,” he says, pointing to the robot, “Back to the lab. You’re grounded.”

DUM-E hangs his arm, making a sad noise, and Peter pets him consolingly, feeling bad. “I’ll sneak Bagheera down to play with you,” he stage-whispers, ignoring Tony’s eye roll.

Once the robot has left, Tony gestures to the kid. “And _you,_ come on. You get to do your running and then you can build his cage.”

Peter huffs but holds back his protest. If anything, he’s been let off easy. Tony starts to stomp away, but Peter knows it’s all mostly just for show. If his mentor truly minded, the snake would already be gone.

Peter suspects that Tony secretly enjoys taking in the animals.

As Peter follows behind, with Spagoni wrapped securely around his wrist, he hears Tony grumbling to himself. “This is why I’m never having kids.”

“I think it’s too late for that,” FRIDAY cuts in, and Tony flips the ceiling off.

Peter laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took SO long. I know people have been waiting such a long while. My mental health has been the worst lately, and I just couldn't seem to get this chapter out. I think it's boring, so I'm sorry if you feel the same way. Also, my friend has a snake named Spagoni, so that's where that came from.
> 
> Feel free to come talk to me on tumblr @the-great-escapism or harass me on my marvel IG @ohmyavenger. You can yell at me for taking so long to update this. Thank you for your patience. As always, comments and kudos bring me infinite joy.


	6. Chapter 6

Peter can’t really help it.

After rescuing so many animals, he can’t help but feel like keeping an eye out for more is part of his civic duty. So, naturally, he’s added on to his patrol to specifically look out for animals in need. It’s hard to look at all the animals he’s acquired and think that Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man only applies to humans.

So now he’s extended the curtesy to animals, too. What Tony doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

Besides, Peter’s efforts have already proven to be successful. For the most part, the animals he finds never need to be brought back to the Tower. Generally, it’s all a simple fix. A dog who got away from its owner. A kitten who strayed too far from its mother.

It’s fun, and as much as Peter likes helping people, there’s nothing quite like helping an animal. Even if it’s just offering a quick pat as he walks by.

Aside from his usual patrol through the city, he takes extra detours, like an old tunnel that he knows animals like to take refuge in, checks dumpsters, and scans every scarce tree carefully.

He’s just reaching the end of patrol, about ready to head back to his apartment and out of the rain for the night, when he skids to a stop on a rooftop next to his building. He tilts his head to the side, ears picking up on a high-pitched sound.

“Karen, what is that?” he asks, unfamiliar with the noise. He waits for Karen’s analysis.

“According to my database, it’s a baby squirrel. Would you like me to direct you?”

Peter shrugs. “Sure, why not? Apparently this is, like, my thing now.”

“That it is,” the AI agrees, sounding amused. “There’s a hatch in the left corner of the roof. It should lead to an attic space. The squirrel is most likely seeking shelter from the rain.”

“Aw, poor babe,” Peter says sympathetically, opening the hatch with Karen’s help and lowering himself through with no sense of self-preservation, as usual. “Where is it?” he asks, scanning the dark space, trying to follow the pitiful noise.

“On your left, Peter.”

He turns, squinting through the darkness as the sound gets louder. “Is this even how buildings work? Why is there a top entrance? Where even am – _oh._ ”

Peter stops short at the sight before him. Nestled on a dirty piece of fabric between two large crates is the baby squirrel, shaking in the cold as it cries pathetically.

“I – oh, god, Karen, what do I do? How do I help him?” Peter asks frantically as he kneels down beside small animal.

“It needs warmth and help from a professional, Peter. If he doesn’t get care immediately, he won’t make it,” Karen tell him, and Peter’s heart races.

“I don’t – “ he carefully reaches out and picks up the edges of the fabric, gently swaddling the scared animal. “Oh god, I’m sorry, babe, I’m sorry. It’s going to be okay – Mr. Stark will help, I promise.”

He stands up and shifts the bundle to the crook of one arm as he hurries back to where he came in from, carefully pulling himself through again. “Karen, call Mr. Stark,” he orders, checking to see if the animal is breathing.

In any other setting or occasion, he’d be thrilled. The animal is so freaking cute, but he can tell that Karen’s right – it needs help and quickly.

“Hey, kid,” Tony’s voice greets. “Shouldn’t you be doing hom – “

“Mr. Stark,” Peter cuts him off. “I need help.”

He hears a dull thud as the man puts whatever tools he’d been working with down. “What’s wrong?” Tony asks quickly, voice tight with concern.

“I – Mr. Stark, there’s this squirrel, and Karen doesn’t think he’s going to make it, and he needs to see a professional and – “ Peter rambles as he huddles around the dying creature.

“Whoa, kid, slow down,” Tony says calmly. “You found a squirrel?”

Peter nods frantically before remembering that Tony can’t see him. “Yes. I found him on the way home, and he’s barely breathing, and – “ Peter’s breath hitches with distress, “Oh god, he’s gonna die.”

“No – _No,”_ Tony tells him firmly. “No one is going to die. How far away are you from the Tower?”

“Not that far,” Peter says shakily, checking on the small animal in his hold.

“Okay. Go ahead and meet me here, while I make a few calls. Most clinics are closed, but meanwhile I’m guessing you need to get the little somewhere here, right?”

“Yeah,” Peter answers, already heading to the ground to run the rest of the way there. He doesn’t want to risk swinging and upsetting the animal more.

“See you soon, Pete. It’s going to be okay,” Tony promises. He can’t even kind of find it within him to tease the boy about acquiring yet another animal.

Peter doesn’t even bother responding, just cradles the baby squirrel as gently as he can.

“You’re a cutie, aren’t you?” Peter asks as he jogs, rolling his steps as he goes to reduce the amount of jostling. He pays no mind to the people who are watching his curiously, glad that his status as Spider-Man means they’re more inclined to move out of his way.

“You need a name,” he tells the tiny creature. A red flag waves in his mind, reminding him that names cement attachment, but he ignores it anyway. “How about… Simon? Nah, I don’t think that fits you that well, do you? What about… Sampson! I think I like that.”

He stops briefly, just to check that the squirrel is still alive and breathes a sigh of relief when he finds that it is.

“Karen, is FRIDAY going to let me in?” Peter asks as he hurriedly rushes up to the front doors of the Tower.

“Yes, Peter. Mr. Stark has temporarily disabled the Zookeeper Protocol and is waiting for you in the lab to update you,” the AI informs him.

Peter nods. “Thanks, Karen.” He quickly uses his webbing to open large double doors, ignoring all the startled looks he gets. The Stark Industry security guards jerk towards him, but he ignores them, rushing to the elevator that FRIDAY’s already holding open for them.

He steps on, looking down at the fragile animal. “Just hang in there a little bit longer, babe. It’s going to be okay,” he promises as they ascend. “Mr. Stark will fix this.”

Once the elevator stops and the doors open, Tybalt trots over to greet Peter, thrilled to see his favorite friend.

“Not now, bud,” Peter brushes him off, and he can’t help the slight twinge of guilt he feels at the wounded look on the dog’s face. _I’ll make it up to him later,_ Peter tells himself. _Triple the treats and so many cuddles._

Peter quickly walks into the lab, going over to where Tony is waiting for him by the table he’s cleared off, save for a man-made nest of soft blankets.

“I called around, and I was right – most places are closed. But a friend of Bruce is headed here now and hopes to be here within the half hour. I’ve put warm bottles under this makeshift nest to keep him warm for now,” Tony informs him, and Peter nods gratefully.

“FRIDAY, scan him for injuries,” Tony commands, and there’s a moment while the AI does as asked.

After a minute, she says, “The squirrel is severely malnourished and dehydrated and was likely separated from its mother days ago. It is not like that it will sur – “

“That will be all, FRI,” Tony cuts her off, darting a quick look at Peter, who tensed at the words.

Tony watches as the kid crouches down on the floor, folding his arms on the edge of the table and resting his chin on them.

“You’re going to be just fine,” Peter murmurs, and Tony’s gut twists. He has a bad feeling about this.

“Peter,” Tony says softly, thinking that maybe he should go ahead and prepare the kid. “Listen – I want you to know that we’re going to try our best, but you have to prepare yourself for – “

“No!” Peter says sharply, swinging his head around to give Tony an uncharacteristically dirty look. “Sampson is going to be as good as new,” Peter insists, and Tony’s heart sinks. Even he knows that animals with names are easier to attach to.

Tony puts his hands up in surrender, backing away. “Okay, okay. I hear you, kid. The vet will be here soon. Is there… Is there anything I can do?” he asks uncertainly, admittedly out of his element.

“Just make sure Dr. Banner’s friend gets here soon,” Peter snaps, turning back to the pathetic-looking animal.

Tony nods, taking that as his cue to back off. He checks that the vet is, indeed, on his way and then walks over to his desk to anxiously tinker around, all the while keeping an eye on the kid and his furry charge.

He hears Peter talking to the tiny creature. “I wonder what happened to your mom. I bet she’s worried about you. Don’t worry, when all this is over, I’ll make sure you get back home. The city does have a shortage of trees, I’m sorry to say.”

Tony can’t help but smile, softening in the face of such pure tenderness.

“You’re the first animal I haven’t had to sneak in, by the way,” Peter tells it, and Tony chuckles softly at that. “Mr. Stark even lowered is protocol thingy for you so you could be somewhere warm. It’s been so dreary lately, hasn’t it? The cold sucks, but cold _and_ rainy is the worst combination,” Peter rambles, never taking his eyes off the animal.

Tony checks his phone impatiently for an update. _Be there in ten,_ a text from the vet reads, and Tony breathes a sigh of relief.

“I wonder what the statistical odds of me finding all of you guys was,” Peter muses. “Probably higher than the average human, since I’m Spider-Man. Did you know you’re the first squirrel ever to be rescued by Spider-Man? I’ve rescued a snake before, but never a – Sampson?”

Tony freezes, chilled by the terrified of Peter’s voice.

“Sampson!” Peter calls insistently. “Tony, he’s – he’s not breathing!” he says, voice climbing hysterically, and Tony wastes no time before rushing over.

Peter delicately picks up the limp creature, and Tony winces at the sight. “He – I don’t know what to do!” Peter cradles the animal to his chest, and Tony’s heart breaks for the kid. “It’s – just hold on, baby, the vet’s going to be here any minute!” Peter begs, and Tony closes his eyes.

He does _not_ want to be the one to do this.

Tony carefully steps forward and puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Pete… I’m sorry, kid. I think he’s gone, buddy.”

Peter shakes his head angrily, clutching the tiny body even closer. “He’s not!” Peter snarls, and Tony only as a second to be surprised before he registers the angry tears spilling down the kid’s cheek.

Tony carefully tugs at Peter’s arms. “You can’t save them all,” Tony says gently, tightening his grasp. “Pete, you gotta let go.”

Peter’s face crumples as he looks at the small bundle in his grasp. He looks back at Tony helplessly. “I – he was supposed to be okay,” he tells Tony, voice cracking. “The – the vet was going to fix everything.”

Tony sighs sadly, delicately prying Peter’s grip off the of dead creature. “I know, buddy,” he murmurs, gently resting the body on the table. When he turns around, Tony finds Peter staring at it with glassy, tear-filled eyes.

“I didn’t get here in time,” Peter whispers, horrified at himself, and Tony shakes his head firmly, quickly moving to stand in front of the kid, effectively blocking his view.

“This was _not_ your fault, Peter. Nothing you could have done would have prevented this,” Tony insists, but Peter just shakes his head again, swiping angrily at his cheeks.

“I – I can’t – I don’t – “ Peter gasps, and Tony can’t just stand there anymore. He quickly reaches out and wraps his arms around the kid, pulling Peter into his chest has he cries in earnest.

“I know, buddy, I know,” Tony murmurs. From across the room, Bagheera leaps down from her cat tree to rub against Peter’s ankles in concern. Tybalt, sensing his owner’s distress hesitantly nudges at Peter’s side.

Peter’s chest aches, hurts at the sense of failure and grief over having done too little too late. He’s not sure how long they stand like that, but Tony keeps his head pressed into him as the vet walks in quietly and carefully picks up the blankets. As Peter hears the man start to leave, he jerks back out of Tony’s grasp.

“Wait!” he calls, voice still watery. He’s sure he must look awful, face red and splotchy from all the crying. “He – Sampson deserves a burial. A proper burial.” Peter looks up at Tony uncertainly. “Can – can we do that?”

The vet gives Tony a doubtful look, but Tony can’t help but cave into Peter’s puppy dog eyes. Especially after the evening the poor kid’s had. He sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah, kid,” he concedes, nodding for the vet to place Sampson into a small bag. It makes him sick.

He hears Peter’s breath hitch again, and he turns, pulling Peter close again.

“It’s okay, kid. Sampson is going to get the best funeral money can buy.”

It won’t make it all better, but for now, it’s enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank God this is finished. This was the most annoying chapter to write, because it just didn't want to go. It's been hanging over me for ages. I'm sorry for this total wreck. I know the characterization and the plot was bad, but I just wanted to be done tbh. Anyway. I hope that maybe you guys like it anyway? Thank you guys for being so patient.
> 
> In the future (literally no promises), I might consider making this a series and have little one-shots of Tony or the Avengers rescuing little animals? I don't know, it might get repetitive. Who knows?
> 
> Anyway, feel free to come bully me on tumblr @the-great-escapism. Comments and kudos are always so appreciated!! Also, this isn't edited because it's 1:33AM and I have an 8AM.

**Author's Note:**

> I am literally terrified that no one's going to like this. I've had SO much fun writing it, and I really want people to love reading it as much as I have loved writing it. I plan on posting one chapter a day, as I already have three chapters written, so hopefully I can get the rest written promptly.
> 
> (*wink wink* comments and kudos are GREAT motivators)
> 
> Feel free to come scream at me on tumblr @the-great-escapism! I love hearing from you guys.


End file.
